Brotherhood of the Supernatural
by NinjaAssassinRaven13
Summary: "The world was born from Darkness. Unending darkness, a crucible of Chaos.
1. Chapter 1

Brotherhood of the Supernatural Ch.1

**Okay everyone, I apologize that I keep updating this particular chapter. It's still the same but I just fixed any mistakes and cleaned it up a bit. I'm doing the same thing to Chapter 2. So it will be up soon. I hope y'all (yup, I'm from Texas) enjoy this. I don't own any of the characters form Supernatural or Devil May Cry, just this fanfic. I will be getting a laptop soon so I will be able to work on this hunting fanfic when and whenever I want without being interrupted. And for those who haven't read it I hope you like it. Enjoy! :) **

"_The world was born from Darkness._

_Unending darkness, a crucible of Chaos._

_But even to that primordial existence there came a ray of Light._

_The universe was eventually split in Two._

_The darkness became the realm of Demons…_

…_And the light became the domain of Mortals._

_These two worlds existed together for what seemed like an Eternity._

_But one day the Lord of the Dark world said…_

'_There realms were once united so why not rule them as one?'_

_From that era forward, the dark fought to control the Light, and the Light struggled to defy the dark._

_But the nature of Man is weak and fragile. There was no way they could hope to oppose the Demonic powers of those from the world of the Shadows._

_Light was overwhelmed by the impenetrable darkness, and humanity prepared to meet its end._

_And then HE appeared…_

_His name…was Sparda._

_He was a being form the demon world, yet the possessor of a proud spirit._

_Sparda, having no loyalty to his kind, took up his weapons on behalf of the world of Light. Wielding his sword for the sake of the weak, that sword destroyed even the Demon King. And without its King, the darkness lost its power._

_Sparda feared the return of the darkness and sealed up that world, along with his own despicable dark powers and the wicked humans who had sides with the shadows._

_The grateful survivors looked up to him as the hero who saved them, and they came to call him the legendary Dark Knight Sparda. He quietly reigned over the human world and continued to preserve harmony until he eventually disappeared._

_But the human spirit is weak, their memories as fleeting as the morning mist. The hero who purchased their freedom with his own blood became but a Legend, and, over time the legend became nothing but a fairytale._

_And so two thousand years would pass…"_

He awoke with a start, coming to a sitting position. The sky was dark; the distant sound of thunder indicated that there was an approaching storm.

_Where am I?_

_What is this place?_

His bright green eyes scanned the unfamiliar area around him, the moon casted eerie shadows across the land. Suddenly he realized he was alone, that Sam wasn't with him.

"Sam?" There was no answer. "Sammy!" Franticly he looked for his younger brother, but he was nowhere to be found. He called his name again.

"Sam!" Again no answer, only his voice echoing off the walls of what seemed like an abandoned town. At first glance it looked like any ancient city, the buildings had a mixture of Gothic and Italian Renaissance architecture. The buildings were covered in dry, dead vines. The streets looked like something out of an English movie scene. They were made of large stones compacted together tightly. Right down to the street lamps, which were dimly lit. The stillness was so thick he could almost reach out and touch it. As walked through the streets he could feel eyes on him. From ghosts of those who lived in this strange place? Or maybe he was just being paranoid. He shook his head, a wary smile touch his lips. Paranoia was good at some points. Then again be cautious was one of the Winchester rules.

_Never let your guard down. Not even a bit._

His father's words rang clearly in his head. _Ah dad, _Dean thought, _I miss you so damn much._

Dean never truly expressed the loss he felt when their father died to save him. And he never would. Suddenly the air around him grew cold, taking him away from his thoughts; drawing his coat closer he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He wondered if Sam was all right, if he knew where he was, if he was looking for him. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard low snarl, nearly making him jump out of his skin. His hunter instincts kicked in. Jumping into the nearest alleyway, he planted his back against the cool brick wall. He peered cautiously from behind the wall and scanned up and down the street; the rooftops, but found nothing. The hair on the back of his neck pricked up; he froze in his place. He spun around when a snarl came from behind him, praying to God that it wasn't a Hell Hound. Holding his breath, he slowly looked over his shoulder.

_Son of a bitch...!_

_Demon_

The word rang loud in his mind. But that can't be, he thought, demons didn't take on their own physical form, they had possess some poor bastard. He hadn't seen a demon's true face since he was within hours of going to Hell, and since he _was _in Hell. Not wanting to stay in the presence of whatever the hell that thing was any longer, he dashed out of the alleyway, his feet pounding loudly as he sprinted down the empty streets. Telling himself not to look back.

_Don't look back...If you look back you'll just run slower..._

But curiosity won, he looked back, and regretted doing so; a black mist was trailing after him. Not watching where he was going, he tripped on an uneven part of the street and fell hard with a grunt. Glancing behind him he saw the black mist closing the distance between them fast, he braced himself. Putting his head down, he covered his head with his hands and squeezed his eyes shut. Then as quickly as it came, it passed over him. He lay in his spot for several moments, trembling, before he slowly got to his feet, looking around trying to catch his breath. He looked up sharply when he heard a woman's voice, and walked in the direction, but soon stopped in his tracks. He saw a small boy with silver white hair, who couldn't have been no more than seven or eight years old, talking to a beautiful fair lady.

"Dante run, hide!"

"What about you mommy?"

"Find the place where you and your brother would play; hide there and wait for me okay!"

"Okay mommy!"

"Hurry they're coming!"

He saw as the boy did was he was told, and he ran as fast as his little legs could take him. He ran after the little boy and called out to him but the boy didn't hear him.

"Hey kid, wait! Don't go out there!" he said breathlessly. "Damn it!"

He followed the boy until he found a wall with a small hole that was just big enough for him to crawl into. He brought his knees to his little chest and placed his forehead on them.

_What the hell is going on?_

He heard footsteps from behind him. Turning to the little boy, who looked up with a smile on his face only to fade away when he saw a creature chasing his mother. The boy was about to scramble outside to warn her.

"No!"

He stopped at his mother's voice and stayed in his hiding spot. She was only a few feet from him when a demon ran her through in cold blood. Dean watched in horror as he saw her use the last of her strength to crawl to her son just before the demon gave the final blow she said with tears in her eyes:

"...Dante...I love you my son...Take care-"

"Mommy!"

"Dean," said a voice. He felt a hand gently shake his shoulder, "Dean, wake up."

Dean woke with a start, sweat running down his face; heart pounding so fast it felt like he'd run a marathon, his green eyes wide. It took him a moment to take in his surroundings; then turning to his younger brother, who had worry written on his face, his hazel blue-green eyes full of concern.

"You alright man?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm alright…" Dean said in a somnolent voice as he buried his face in his hands, trying to make sense of the dream, or nightmare, he had. It was so real, so vivid, as if he was reliving a memory, but whose memory he did not know. And why would he be have a dream, or vision of someone's memory in the first place? He wasn't a psychic.

_Okay, no more greasy food and a creepy book before going to bed._

Sam stayed at his brother's side for a moment studying him over, then decided he should just drop it, he would ask Dean later but not now. Heading to the bathroom Sam washed his face.

"Are we working on a case today?" Dean asked.

"No," Sam said as he dried his face with a towel, "n'thing out of the ordinary t'day."

"Huh," was all Dean said. It wasn't strange not having to work a case once he and Sam had finished the previous one. Besides, he and Sam rarely got any rest, so he had his mind sent on taking advantage today, fully knowing that things could change. But he knew that with each passing minute Lilith was getting closer to opening the thirty-three remaining seals.

"Well, might as well take the some time to visit Bobby. What do you say Sammy?" Dean said as he laid back on the soft pillow with his eyes closed.

Sam turned to his brother, frowning. How could he be so laid back? Not that he wasn't already like that, it's just...

"Dean, you know we can't do that. Lilith-" Dean cut Sam off with a wave of his hand.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It'll just be for today."

"Fine," Sam said with an annoyed sigh, "as long as it's only for today, then we get back to work." Sam said in a stern voice.

"Yeah."

"Hey, I'm gonna go get some food. Do you want anything?"

Opening his eyes, he wearingly turned to face his brother. "Just bring me anything and a six pack, I'm starving." He said with a smile.

With a nod Sam put on his jacket he headed for the door, telling his brother that he wouldn't be gone long and that he would be walking to the McDonalds that was across the street. And so, Dean was alone in the motel room staring up at the ceiling, still trying to make figure out why he had the dream, nightmare, whatever, it freaked the hell out of him. Many questions ran through his tired mind, he knitted his browns together as he ran a hand through his hair.

"What was the kid's name?" he said thinking out loud. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He recalled the woman saying the boy's name.

_Dante_

The name echoed in his mind. "Dante," he said out loud. Maybe the dream and the boy were connected. With a sigh he closed the book and tossed it to his left. Shifting to a more comfortable position on his bed, he grabbed the remote and turned on the T.V. and flipped through the channels, trying to get his mind off the dream. After fifteen minutes had passed with nothing interesting to watch he turned the T.V. off; got up from the bed, grabbed a pair of jeans and a black muscle shirt; underwear, and walked to the bathroom and showered. The shower did little to take his mind off of things. Once he finished he got out dried; dressed; ran a comb through his hair; brushed his teeth; walked to his bed and laid down in nothing but his jeans and a muscle shirt and bear feet. Suddenly he heard a noise come from behind him. Sitting up he turned to find Castiel standing over him, almost making him jump out of his skin_. _

_Friggin angles!_

"Jeez Cass, you could give a guy a heart attack," Dean said snapped in annoyance, "next time call before you zap in!"

Castiel was quiet for a moment, his bright blue eyes big and innocent. Dean thought that by the look on Castiel's face that he had hurt his feelings.

"Uh, Cass, I-" Dean was cut off when Castile raised hand.

"It's ok Dean. Don't worry about it." Castiel said in his usually calm voice.

"Okay. Why are you here? Do you want us to gank some demon?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

"I came because I sensed that you were troubled. Is everything alright, Dean?"

Dean bit on his lower lip and looked away, hesitant to tell Castiel anything. He still didn't know what to make of the freaky dream. But…

"Dean?"

Dean started when Castiel's voice broke the long silence. Just then, Sam walked into the room with McDonald's burger bags and six pack that Dean had asked for. He was so happy that he wanted to kiss Sam, but shook that scary thought away. He just wasn't in the mood to talk, not just yet. Not until he made sense of it.

"Finally!" Dean said as he bolted from his bed. "What took you so long? I'm starving!"

"Sorry there was a lot of people", Sam said as he placed the bags on the small round table near the T.V. when his saw a familiar figure in a light brown trench coat standing at the far corner of the room near the door, "Oh, hey Cass," he said with a smile at his angelic friend.

"Hello, Sam," he said with a ghost of a smile.

"I didn't see you there. Are you hungry?" Sam said offering Castiel a small burger.

Castiel was hesitant for a moment, but as not to be rude he generously took the burger from his friend, "Thank you" and sat on the edge of Sam's bed that was closest to the entrance of the room and begun to eat quietly.

Once three men finished eating, the brothers packed their belongings and loaded them into the Impala, Dean went to go check out of their room.

"Do you want to come with us to see Bobby?" Sam asked turning to his angelic friend.

"I can't. I have business to attend to. You know what to do if you need me." And with that Castiel vanished, leaving Sam alone in the parking lot.

"Where's Cass?" Dean said throwing his arms up in question.

"He said he had business to take care of."

"Man, he never has time for himself, does he?"

Sam gave him a _no-duh-look_ and got into the passenger seat, Dean fallowing suite in the driver's seat; turning the Impala on; waiting a few minutes for the car to warm up, then drove out of the parking lot. The trip to Bobby's house, thankfully, was only a few hours away. Twilight had settled in when they reached their destination. They walked up to the front door and Dean lightly knocked, and after a few moments the door opened and was greeted by the man, who was more of a father them then their own father was.

"Hey Bobby," Dean said with a grin.

"What are you boys doin' here?" Bobby said what a confused and surprised look on his face.

"We just wanted to stop by and visit." Sam said with a smile.

"Oh, why didn'cha say so," he said rolling his eyes, "come on in boys. How ya two been?"

"Good." Dean said as he sat next to Sam on the couch in Bobby's office. Bobby went into to kitchen to get the boys something to drink.

"So," Bobby said from the kitchen, "you boys working on a case?"

"Nope. Nothing today." Sam replied.

"Really?" Bobby said as he came back with beer three bottles and handing one to each of the brothers.

"Yeah. I figured, it's just one of those days where nothing is happening."

"Well I haven't found anything about Lilith trying to open the rest of the seals." Bobby said taking a sip of his beer.

"So what? The demons are on spring break or something?" Dean jokingly said.

"I don't know boy, does it look like I know everything?" Bobby said as he gave Dean a sarcastic look.

Sam chuckled at Bobby's remark; turning to his brother beside him, he saw an awkward smile touch his lips as he sipped his beer.

"Oh boys," Bobby said, standing up, placing his beer on the coffee table and walked over to his desk. Rummaging through its drawers. The boys exchanged questioning glances, then looked away when the old hunter he held up a long large teardrop cut ruby hung from a long silver chain. It glinted brilliantly in the lamplight. Dean whistled softly, he wiggled his brows as a wicked grin touched his lips.

"Is that for a girlfriend?"

Bobby made a face and rolled his eyes. "No idjet. I found it at an antique shop several months ago. I'd been meaning to show it to ya, but something always came up. Here take a look."

Bobby handed it to Sam first. Sam looked it over quickly then handed it to Dean. The large jewel was about the size of his palm. He looked it over, turning it this way and that, taking it every detail; the way it felt in his hands. Then frowned. Somehow it looked familiar. The dream, vision, nightmare, whatever the hell you call it, came rushing back to him. He remembered the little white haired boy he saw talking to his mother. A beautiful lady, he thought. Dean recalled seeing a small glint of the same large teardrop cut ruby that hung from the long silver chain that he held in his hands. So many questions raced through his mind. Was it a memory that he saw? He definitely knew he wasn't psychic. So were the boy and the amulet somehow connected? It seemed so ridiculous. Then again what he and his brother have seen would make sane person scream for the nuthouse. A weary smile touched his lips at the thought. Dean started when Sam spoke, his brows knitted in worry.

"Dean, you okay?"

"What? Oh. Yeah I'm fine."

Sam looked his brother over, clearly skeptical. He's noticed that Dean had been acting "weird" all day. Actually since he's woken up this morning.

Dean began to feel uncomfortable under Sam's worried gaze. He licked his lips and smiled.

"I'm fine Sam. Really," he said. Knowing that his brother didn't buy it one bit. He looked to Bobby as he still held the amulet in his hands. "Where did you say got this again Bobby?"

"I got it at the same antique shop I got that old book at, years ago. The same one you've been reading. Why do you ask?"

Dean shook his head. "It just….I've seen this before, more than once, somewhere. Is there any info on this, anything, like a legend or something?"

Bobby frowned thoughtfully, rubbing his beard. "Well…there is actually," he said looking from one brother to the other. "It's a two thousand year old legend to be exact."

Dean looked down at the amulet in his hands once more. He bit his bottom lip and knitted his brows together, thoughtfully.

"It," the old hunter continued. "Was a story of a demon who betrayed his kind in order to save humanity or something like that. I believe that the demon's name was…" Bobby's voice trailed off as he tried to remember what the creepy bookkeeper said. "Oh yes. His, the demon's, name was Sparda."

"Sparda?" Sam said. "His name sounds like the city in southern Peloponnese in Greece? That's his name?"

Bobby nodded. "But supposedly he disappeared. And, as all 'great stories' go, through time it became a legend, or a fairytale. Or so I was told."

"There has to be more to it right?" Dean asked. "It can't just stop there. What else were you told?"

Bobby shrugged. "It was years ago when I was told this. When I first became a Hunter. I don't remember much of it. I was worried about….." His voice trailed off as he remembered the day he became a Hunter when his wife was possessed by a demon. The memory still haunts him to this day. He shook the painful memory away and continued. "…..about other things at the time. I mean it's not every day you hear of a 'righteous' demon betraying his kind to save humanity. "

Sam chuckled. Dean continued to observe the amulet he looked up when he heard that strange name "Sparda". That name sounded familiar as well, but where? He contemplated for a moment.

_The book_

Placing the amulet on the table he went to the Impala and popped the trunk. Unaware at the four pairs of eyes staring at his sudden movement, as he rushed out the door. Grabbing his duffle bag, he unzipped it and rummaged through it, smiled when his fingers brushed the hard worn leather surface of the book. He pulled it from the bottom of the bag, tucked it under his arm and closed the trunk, and headed back inside. He took his place by his brother and until flipped through several pages until he came across one paragraph caught his interest. It read:

"_During the time when the star of Bethlehem bathed the Earth with its radiance, demons and monsters raged deep in the bowels of hell. One of these monsters declared himself King of the Demon World, and began to covet the world of humans. It was then that a fearless demon swordsman named Sparda appeared. Sparda cut down the armies of the fell and defeated the Demon King, sealing him into oblivion._

_Although Sparda was himself a demon, his desire to experience the pain and joy of a human soul turned him against the demons. After many bloody battles, he departed hell to reside in the human world. He even married a human woman, who bore his seed._

_And so, after two thousand years have passed, the cursed Demon King is destined to reclaim his powers and return to the human world. Also destined is the battle between the Demon King and the half-demon son of Sparda"_

_-Excerpted from the forbidden library text of the Vatican "Demon World History" (date unknown)_

After he read it he showed it to Bobby.

"Is this part of the legend?"

Bobby frowned as he read it over once, twice. Why hadn't he looked at this book before? Why didn't he take time to read it? Maybe he should sit down and see how many unread books he had in the discarded piles of papers. As he glanced around the room he took a mental note to clean and organize everything. At least it would give him something to do when he had those rare days off, or when the boys weren't around. Looking back at the page that was in front of him he looked to Dean.

"This might be some of it." He sat down at his desk and started to carefully flip through aged pages. Then, out of habit, he glanced at the clock on the wall ahead of him he, placed the book down on the desk.

"So, you boys leavin' tonight?"

"No, we'll be saying here. If that's okay with you?" Dean replied.

Bobby nodded. "Sure it's okay with me. That'll give us time to look more into this 'legend' that we stumbled across."

Dean nodded, then as if on cue from not sleeping well the other night he suddenly became drowsy.

"Great. Now if you don't mind I'm getting ready to hit the hay."

After showering and dressing in a pair of sweats and a black tee, Dean took the couch and Sam took the bed in the corner of Bobby's office. Bobby slept upstairs in his room.

As he was about fall asleep he felt an all too familiar presence in the room. He flinched when the presence spoke.

"Hello, Dean."

"Cass," Dean said in a weary voice as he turned to look at his angelic friend through tired eyes, "what are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"No. I just wanted to check up on you." Castiel said looking from Dean to the sleeping form of Sam and back.

"So, you're just dropping by?" Dean said with a yawn.

Castiel nodded and said, "You should get some rest."

"Fine," Dean said he rubbed his face, "But I don't want to find you watching me sleep, it's kinda creepy."

With a curt nod, Castiel took a seat in the far corner of the room, so that the boys were in his line of view. A strange feeling overcame him. What was it that the humans called it? Guilt? Or was it the phrase, "feeling bad", for not telling Dean why he was really here. Call it intuition or instinct, but he felt something was wrong and it was making him uneasy. Maybe the reason was that he has been spending too much time in the Human World then he had come to realize. Maybe, Dean was, as he would say, "rubbing off" on him. He laughed inwardly at the thought. He still had much to learn of this world from his friends. With a shake of this head, he cast his thoughts aside. No distractions, he told himself, if he was distracted right now and his intuition was right it could put Bobby and the boys in danger. With that in mind he sat quietly watching over them as they slept.

**The "text" were taken from the Devil May Cry manga. All rights go to Eric K. (creator of Supernatural) and to Suguro Chayamachi (artist and writer of the Devil May Cry manga). And to Capcom (the creator(s) of Devil May Cry and its characters). **


	2. Chapter 2

Brotherhood of the Supernatural Ch.2

**Finally this is done! So sorry for the long wait. My goal is still 20 chapters. I know that SPN is already on its 8****th**** season, but I don't care, I'll watch SPN and play Devil May Cry 3 over and over again to get the story in my head, and make sure I get the character's personalities right. Speaking of which, I hope I got Vergil's right. He has to be the most complex of the two brothers. So far I've gotten good reviews, though there aren't many, I won't let it stop me from writing. (It's one of my many hobbies) And again I don't own any of the characters, just this fanfic. **

He stood in the shadows outside an old house. He was surprised the structure still stood, given the condition it was in. With towering piles of old and rusted shells of vehicles that were surprisingly, or seemed, somewhat sturdy. He recalled Arkham disclosing the location of the medallion, feeling angry that is fell into human hands. His blue-gray eyes scanned over the area, aware of the three humans that lay just beneath the old structure. And then there was one presence he could not read. Clearly it was not human. Maybe….As curious as a cat, he gathered his preternatural power, feeling it flow through him, and released it in small pulses.

His surroundings still swam around him. Fully aware of every creek the old house, every sound the creatures of the night made. To the slow, deep breaths of two familiar sleeping forms. To the sound of snoring from upstairs. At first glance the angel seemed to be sleeping, as all humans did at this time. When the sun kissed the Earth before retreating to the horizon and the moon took over the heavens with its soft white glow, casting mysterious and eerie shadows across the land. With his head bowed; chin to the chest, arms lax of the top of the thighs, body slightly hunched forward. What the angel was really doing was listening to his brothers and sisters talk. Thousands upon thousands of whispers echoed lightly in his head. He opened his eyes when he felt a pulse of supernatural power roll over him like static electricity. Blinking in surprise he slowly stood to his full height. His sapphire gaze ran through the dimly moonlit room.

His body tensed, when he felt the pulse again. He stood, unmoving, like a statue: then inched his way closer to the window on silent feet. Back against the wall, he lightly moved the curtain with his index finger, and peered out the window. Making sure he stayed out of site. His gaze caught a mist rolling through the night air; disappearing into the metal maze. He looked down sharply when he caught movement form the corner of his eye. A small sigh escape from his lips after seeing the older Winchester stirring underneath the sheets on the couch. With a shake of his head he turned his attention back to the window. He felt eyes on him, beckoning him, daring him to step into the night. At first he would have refused, but curiosity won him over.

Looking down at the sleeping form of the older Winchester; then to the younger one and back. Knowing that, if he left Bobby and the boys alone, it could put them in danger. Even though he would not be far, should danger fall upon them. With that in mind he took one last glance at the boys from the threshold of the office, and with one swift movement of his wings he found himself outside. The cool night air caressed his face, his trench coat billowing at the sudden rush of air. There he stood, firmly in his place, his brilliant sapphire gaze ran over the piles of old rusted cars: over an old shed with broad beams that seemed to be as old as some of the cars. He made his way deeper and deeper into the metal labyrinth, scanning the darkness. Some time later he closed his eyes, concentrating on the world around him. After a few minutes he slowly opened his eyes, brows knitted together. Although he stretched his senses as much as he could, he could not determine the source of what had emitted the supernatural power.

Whatever was lurking in the shadows, it could mask its presence very well. As he was about to turn and walk away, he heard a noise from the darkness. The angel glared through the darkness, but to no avail. Then, after a few moments a voice came from the shadows. Casitel turned to his left, his eyes narrowing; his muscles tensing. The angel unfurled his wings, spreading them as wide as they could go, as a figure in blue materialized from the darkness. The figure was tall, at least as tall as the younger Winchester was, clearly a male. His cold, piercing blue-gray eyes, glinting unnaturally in the moonlight, stood out from his pale skin. And his sliver-white hair slicked back in soft spikes, a short, thick, strand above his left eye. His face so expressionless, no human could duplicate it. Clad in a long blue trench coat lined with gold silk where the buttons were. Underneath, he wore black robes and dark brown boots that went up to his knees. In his left gloved palm was a Japanese sword. Around the top of the sheath was a long gold ribbon, a long gold chain with a large teardrop ruby hung from his neck. Like the one in Bobby's office. The boys and the old hunter may not have been aware of his presence, but he was there watching over them as he always did. Dean a little more than the other two, after all he was Dean's guardian. The only time he wasn't with them was only when he was called to heaven. He recalled what Dean had read from the old book, and the conversation that the three men had. To the odd look in Dean's eyes when he observed the same jewel that hung over the man's neck in front of him. When the man spoke Castiel's eyes sharply went from the red jewel to the man.

"So you're an angel," the figure said flatly.

Castiel could feel a menacing aura, emitting from the young man, roll over his skin. An aura that was powerful. _This man…_, the angel thought to himself, _what is he?_ He could sense there was something demonic within the young man, but there was something else….something….human.Castiel let white electricity dance on his fingertips, letting grow brighter, ready to attack. The man let out a low chuckle. Castiel blinked in surprise as the man vanished from his sight in a blue mist. He looked this way and that, hoping to catch a glimpse of the blue figure. His wish came true when something connecting hard with his jaw, sending him flying into an old car, the metal frame caving in; the windows exploding on impact with a loud boom. The angel bounced off the crushed vehicle and collapsed to his knees, wincing, pain searing through his right wing. Just as the sudden shock of the impact was leaving his clouded mind, he felt a strong hand roughly haul him from the ground, by his collar. Holding him in midair. The angel looked down and passed the arm that was holding him, and met cold blue-gray eyes. As the man in blue spoke, his voice mirroring his eyes, held a slight calmness to it. "Where is it? Where is the jewel?"

When the angel stayed silent, the man's face twisted in anger as he slammed the angel into the ground. Blood sprayed from angel's mouth, as the great force crushed the left side of his chest. Castiel struggled to breath. A harsh cough caused more of the red liquid to trickle from his mouth. The man yanked Castiel up by his coat and brought him close so that their faces were mere inches away. The man spoke again through clenched teeth, his voice cold and hard. "I'm going to ask you _one more time. _Where is the jewel?"

Castiel tried to speak, but all that came out was a ragged cough. The man's eyes scanned over the angel's face, his own darkening. Shoving the angel away from him, the man in blue stood to his full height. His eyes looking down, coldly, and the prone bloody angel.

As Castiel moved to gain his feet, the air grew cold and heavy. His breath was vapor in the wind. The night seemed to grow darker; everything came to an eerie stillness as a thin layer of frost formed in a rush, blanketing everything in ice. His eyes caught movement from behind the young man. He cast his eyes behind the man's shoulder to find a black mist taking shape. Forming a large creature wearing a long, pitch-black tattered, hooded cloak. Its luminous cobalt eyes, staring at him from a grinning skull. In its skeletal hands, an enormous silver scythe.

"Then I'll leave you with a parting gift." He said, again vanishing in a blue mist.

The creature's eyes flashed for a moment, and then it, too, vanished. Before Castiel could react, there was a flash of silver; he felt a sharp pain on his right side. Red liquid gushed out in scarlet steams from the deep wound. He placed a shaky hand on his ribs, his hand felt warm and sticky; a bluish-white light was emitting from his wound. Castiel swayed in his place; then collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily. Slowly, he removed his red stained hand from his side. Blood. His blood. Whatever injuries his vessel sustained, Castiel felt them now.

The only thing that could cause him such pain was….

_Angelic silver_

He wondered how this creature, one that he'd never seen before, could be wielding a scythe that is made of Angelic silver. Or at least, he thought it was...

_Must…warn the boys…..and Bobby….I must…._

He closed his eyes as dizziness rushed over him in strong waves. Cursing himself for wondering too far from the Singer house. He knew that whatever noise was made from that battle that was taking place no one would hear. If he did not alert his friends now he….When he opened his eyes, the creature was nowhere in sight. Breathing heavily, he slowly heaved himself up, holding onto the nearby beam for support, his vision beginning to blur. Using some of the strength he had left and linked his mind to one of the three sleeping men.

***Le gasp* Poor Cass. Don't worry guys he'll get better. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review! Thanks! All rights go to Eric K. (creator of Supernatural) and to Capcom (the creator(s) of Devil May Cry and its characters. **


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